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songs of days gone by


Patch

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Oh WOW, Eh Loose

M. called me with the news this afternoon

I am writing to you from the Lost and Found

Seems like just a couple days ago you were saying hello to,

Mama, Puc, RBIG1 and Fool over at Mama’s Café

And, just days back you stood watch with me over the neighbors’ family till dawn

Maybe a week now since our attempt to buy smokes turned into a rescue of a teenage girl

I can still hear the cheers from the shop keeps - tell me Loose can you still hear them too

And remember that young lady we offered safe passage to, at the very same place not that long ago

Eh remember the blond that ran into our arms last year as I recall; we tucked her safe into the club

as we stood quiet baring his chance to carry thru

Think it was the August 24th last we sat together

I regret now not dragging in that old organ you wanted to play A Lighter Shade of Pale on

Man there was something always happening when we two spent time together

Thinking back I recall laughingly ordering you to sit still as I knocked your cap from your head

pulled my straight, began scraping off those whiskers and cutting your hair; my last Pairs made shirt looked great on you, come to think of it Loose you never did win an argument with me, lol

How you cried after reading M.’s Love for you, just after receiving those pictures of that new you;

Loose I was just 50 paces away, why man, did you not knock on my door

We were so close, so much progress, more than a thousand reasons just 50 paces away

I feeling kind of mad at you; me here and you just those 50 paces away

I will keep my promise and watch over M., place your Jackett on the motorcycle wall, the second one this month

Ride free my friend, I will miss our contradicting choices for best songs and bands

ride on in peace!

 

Patch

 

 

 

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  • 1 month later...
Here is one of my favorite Roy Orbinson from the Black and White album.

 

Thank you and I have that same one in my play list, think within the last 40min or so was just grooven in the kitchen to ;)

 

 

So would like to share this version by Tom:

 

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There are a lot of great songs in this topic. I have playlists on YouTube that have many of these liveries. A separate playlist is reserved for songs from James Bond films, and a separate playlist of favorite songs from films. All this can be listened to according to the mood.

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  • 5 months later...

I found this documentary told by a Sub Captain WWII

For one of the stories you may find this link helpful to understand the "mirage" he encounters while lining up for a torpedo shot.

five hour and 23 minutes of story

this is a small sample of what the situation he encountered:

"Many people must be familiar with the often repeated fact that when we are looking at the setting sun, it is in fact already below the horizon. In astronomy, this phenomenon is known as refraction: the refraction of light in the atmosphere raises objects in the sky at the horizon by about half an (angular) degree."

https://finland.fi/life-society/mirages-in-finland/

 

i

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I likes it!!

So I just out of a get together that knew some 50 years back. The y called me "the kid" dats right NO capts.

So I must say I likes the depth of your shovel! I'll see you one and raise you ;)

So one for the ante up for a challenge 

 

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I came across this Voice segment; I don't usually post this stuff but this one struck a cord with me and knowing the types of Gents we are likely there are many among us reaching out to the less confident we meet along our journeys at a point where there are more years behind us than hills left to climb.

An evolving story in my life in making good on a rough start:

So out of the guys I hit the streets with were 3 brothers; you may of read me mention "three tongues" well he had 3 brothers 2 of which were always not far away from the the group. Three tongues had training as a street boxer, the middle brother had a natural gift of gab, looked like Donny Osmond. The third and youngest Art decided to study CungFu and live the life.

We all here read much of my story but Art became a casual encounter. 

Many journeys later and while in my traveling days I had a chance encounter with him; I was by then a hardened fellow over following with confidence he was frail stuttered rounded shoulders no eye contact.

As the evening turned to night I turned all my focus to him and just listened. I asked him how he felt about his decision to immerse into the life style and could there have been a moment that broke his sprite? NO NO I am very confident in my life style, watch. I must admit watching him in the yard was graceful. Every step was sure footed every strike was textbook. I felt like a blind bull in a china shop!  

My time in Montreal was always short lived in those days and just like that I was gone.

Art decided to get back to spending time with the groups Mum my Mum. One day help her move some stuff he had an accident involving his right wrist severing everything. Eventho there were plenty of witnesses to what and how it happened he spent much time in the hospital for surgery and psychiatry. Turned out he suffered from anxiety. In those days few understood it as a permanent type condition. When I think back I now know every day and several times a day he had to be brave enough to get through each day. His fears were so different than what I had to overcome.

As you's know I have a group I work with, all of us have a difficult past and we just get what its like to live with the memories and tendencies rooted in our nature. But we can and do well.

So one Friday during C19 we are gathered on the patio and we speak a mix of slang's some french some english some street code. That day a new server was filling in a young guy say 26 named Cole. We caught on to him standing close enough tho looking down leaning on the wall listening in on the conversations. It was a hot day and some can really put it away, my youngest son was sitting with us for a while just soaking it all up. Like me he writes and of course he is still just finding out about my past life. Getting back to this Cole fellow: he serves this guy off to the left who had just sat down and before his beer was served he raises his voice to us in french. He made his way over to our group and shared with us who he ran with in MTL and his way of earning. His history raised a red flag with me and it was time to get him to move on just as my kid sister was joining us. Unfortunately he decided he wanted to stay even tho consensus was to leave. He began demonstrating an interest in sis with much vulgarity  and then came his choices. He thought about it for a few seconds made some promises guys like that can't keep and left. However it wasn't the best experience for Cole. As the crowd lessened Cole approached me and we stayed late after closing and chatted. He spoke of some personal things and then after a time I asked, are you being threatened or intimidated by someone? Is there some way I or we can help? And then he told me that he suffered from anxiety. This time I knew better what he was living thru. Question is or was how can I make a difference? Most of us face days, watch our children face their challenges and we share our experiences and confidence that tomorrows always begins with a new sun rise. But, how can we relate to the fear of getting thru today to just face it again and again? I know now wisdom that I can put to words that can ease that kind of pressure. Sure there's medication and if one suffers then one should accept it as a natural part of their life. But if the medication does not allow one to live free and in confidence surely there must be something we can provide?

And so I come back to the beginning of this post:

Down at the very bottom I am going to share an inspiration that was given me one night. The date is or should be posted of when and who inspired me to pick up the pen again. Make me this one favor in return for sharing it; don't come away with a tragic sense of my youth because, that is simply not how I believe it to be. To get here I needed to live as I once did! The poem has already been copy right, a small piece of a larger collection. PS. I write as I read, if you don't like poetry do yourself a favor and skip it ;)

  

Oh Patches oh Patches speak to me please

Make me cry make me bleed I beg you- bring me to my knees my tissue is near to wipe the tears

Tell us again in a new way of the 60s 70s and 80s as we dare to peek past another door to your past

Wrap it all up spin a tale as close as you dare to keep it real- keep us scared

I want to feel your pain and hear of love lost too

Patches Oh patches I know no other poet as you

Spin our emotions let us feel as you do

Why tell us why was early life so cruel to you

Why did your mother and others not save or protect you- can it be true

How could they beat you to spare you to beat you again and again- seems to cruel

How do you trust how do you continue to love after what they did to you

Tell us about the gangsters and the mad man that fathered you

Patches oh Patches can you still feel your pain- when you write we certainly do

Did you really lay your life down for your family and those you called friend- can it all be true

I just can’t imagine how hard it must be to be you- we never knew -just what made you

Please write some more we need more find another door we need to explore just one more door

No one takes me there as when you open those doors it’s true we really want to read more

So unlock another door let us peek past into a difficult past that is rightfully yours- please share one more

Patches oh Patches how can you pause when we beg to feel more of those years you deplore

Patches oh Patches please don’t say you won’t share anymore

The end

Patch Yates

10/01/12 inspired by Lally

                                                                                                                                                 

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